


Time is (Not) On My Side

by fallenangel218



Category: NCIS, Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Horror, Supernatural Elements, Suspense, graphic images
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-04-16 12:37:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4625595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenangel218/pseuds/fallenangel218
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When high-ranking Navy officers turn up dead, appearing to be mauled, Tim secretly has to call in an old friend for help, and re-opens the door to a past that he thought he left behind forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the NFA "Supernaturally Inspired" challenge. The challenge wasn't geared toward the TV show, but this crossover would not leave me alone.

  
  
_"No... no no no it's not time yet... no! Get away! No!"_  
  
_Footsteps crunched on dead leaves. A door opened. Footsteps on a tiled floor._  
  
_Claws scraping on a tiled floor. Growling. The haggard breath of a large animal._  
  
_"Get away! Please! Not yet!"_  
  
_Loud, vicious barking. Violent, wretched screaming._  
  
  
Tim shot up in bed, breathing heavily. His body was covered in sweat. He frantically looked around his bedroom. Everything was undisturbed, and he was alone.  
  
He threw the covers off and yanked the gun out from under his pillow. He slowly made his way out into the living room. No one was there, and all of his possessions were in their designated place. He started to lower his gun, but a gut feeling made him keep it at the ready. Something was very, _very_ off, and he could feel it.  
  
"That gun's not going to help you."  
  
Tim whirled around at the sudden voice, and came face to face with a stout man in a black suit, with an evil grin on his face.  
  
"You... what the hell are you doing here?" Tim asked defensively, keeping his gun pointed at the sudden intruder.  
  
"Thought I'd pop in for a visit. I'm sure you knew that, if the look on your face is any indication."  
  
"Get the hell out. You're not welcome here."  
  
The man chuckled, and waved a hand. Tim's gun flew out of his hands and sailed across the room.  
  
"All I wanted to do was chat... pointing a gun at me isn't nice, Timmy."  
  
"Go to hell."  
  
"Been there, done that."  
  
The man waved his hand again. Tim felt himself careening backward and into the wall next to his bedroom door, and held there by an invisible force.  
  
"We have some unfinished business to attend to."  
  
"Forget it, Crowley."  
  
"We made a deal. You know what'll happen if you don't hold up your end of the bargain."  
  
"Y-you can't collect early... that wasn't part of the deal."  
  
"I can collect whenever I want to, Timmy. I _am_ the King of Hell, after all."  
  
Tim's phone started ringing on his night stand.  
  
"It's my Boss," Tim said quickly.  
  
"The insufferable Leroy Jethro Gibbs. I've been watching him. For a while I thought he was going to come join me for a bit of fun --well, fun for me, torture for him."  
  
"Shut the hell up."  
  
"Your Boss isn't the man you think he is, Timmy. You should ask him sometime."  
  
The phone stopped ringing, and then started up again a few seconds later.  
  
"He's going to keep calling until I answer," Tim said smugly.  
  
Crowley sighed, annoyed.  
  
"Fine," he said, and released Tim. "I'll be back to collect."  
  
Crowley disappeared, and Tim was alone again. He took a moment to regain his bearings, and scrambled into his bedroom to grab his ringing phone.  
  
"McGee."  
  
_"Where the hell were you, McGee?"_  
  
"In the head," Tim lied.  
  
_"We've got a dead Navy Commander at Quantico. Get your ass here."_  
  
Gibbs rattled off an address and hung up the phone. Tim scribbled it down and went into the bathroom to get cleaned up.  
  
**NCISNCISNCISNCIS**  
  
The sun was peeking over the trees when Tim arrived at the crime scene. He climbed out of his car with a cup of coffee in his hand and his camera bag on his shoulder. He leaned back into car and produced a second cup of coffee for Gibbs, who met him halfway across the perfectly manicured front lawn to take the beverage.  
  
"What have we got, Boss?"  
  
"Commander Matthew Hannigan. His wife found him in the basement this morning. Tony's already on bag and tag - get in there and start taking photos."  
  
"On it."  
  
Tim made his way inside, practically chugging down the large coffee. He made his way through the living room into the kitchen, where he found the basement door open wide. He made his way down the steps and turned left into the main area of the basement - and he froze in his tracks.  
  
The Commander's clothes were torn to shreds, and there were very large claw marks all over his body, the worst of which was across his chest.  
  
Tony caught him staring wide-eyed at the body, and got to his feet.  
  
"McGee, are you going to start taking photos?"  
  
Tim came out of his trance, and set his coffee down to start taking photos.  
  
"Are you okay, Probie?" Tony asked as Tim snapped a picture of the Commander's chest.  
  
"I'm fine, Tony."  
  
"Whatever you say. And how come you get to bring coffee, and Gibbs makes me throw mine in the garbage when I get here?"  
  
"Because you stand around and drink it, and try to get out of bag and tag."  
  
"Whatever, Probalicious. I'm going to go see if Ducky's here and help Palmer get that gurney down here."  
  
Tim nodded as he snapped a picture of the Commander's face. It was contorted, frozen permanently into a terrified scream. Tim moved away from it, and started phtographing the rest of the wounds. This looked like a mauling death, and that's exactly what it was. By the look of the claw marks, he knew exactly what animal did this, and there was only one person who could get rid of it.  
  
He took out his cell phone and sent a quick text message.  
  
_Have a 911 - need to talk to you immediately._  
  
He pocketed his phone and continued to take pictures. Whatever was going on here had to be because of him, and he was going to need help to stop it.  
  
**TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

_**two days later**_   
  
  
"Get out of here," Gibbs said, rousing his team from their delirium from lack of sleep. They'd been hunting the murderer for two days straight, on very little rest. The lack of evidence made Gibbs' attitude worse by the hour. When he finally told them to go home, no one waited around to debate the command.   
  
Ellie was the first one in the elevator, yawning as it closed. Tim smiled at her as he checked his watch. It was nearing midnight. His text had been answered exactly 24 hours after he'd sent it - per usual - and they'd arranged to meet tonight, so Tim could brief his friend on what was happening. Tim quickly packed his things and pulled on his leather coat as he hurried toward the elevator.   
  
"Hey Probie!"   
  
Tim winced when he heard Tony's voice getting closer to him.   
  
"I don't want to go out for a drink, Tony. I'm exhausted and I want to go to bed."   
  
"How do you know that's what I was going to ask you?"   
  
"You ask me every Wednesday. I always say no."   
  
"Touche. Ok, McBeautySleep, see you bright and early tomorrow."   
  
Tim stepped into the elevator.   
  
"Good night, Tony."   
  
As soon as the elevator doors closed, Tim breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back against the wall. He really didn't need Tony snooping around in this - it was something he had to do himself. Involving anyone else would surely be a death sentence.   
  
Tim hurried to his car and left the Navy Yard. As he pulled out onto the street, he performed a mirror check to make sure he wasn't being tailed by anyone - especially Tony - and turned the opposite way toward Rock Creek Park. He pulled off the road near the entrance, and obscured his car behind some low-hanging branches. Looking around him to make sure no one saw him, he slipped under the closed gates to the park and started down the drive.   
  
About a quarter mile down the drive, Tim hooked a right and slipped into the woods. He walked about 200 feet before meeting with one of the many hiking paths the park offered. He followed it to a spot where it crossed with another path, and there, he stopped and waited.   
  
Rustling in the bushes behind him twenty minutes later put Tim on high alert. He drew his weapon and moved away from the bushes, in case he needed a clear shot at whatever was in there. He kept his weapon aimed as a tall man stepped out of the bushes and into the clearing. The man saw him, and raised his hands in the air.   
  
"I can't help you if I'm dead."   
  
Tim smiled and sheathed his weapon.   
  
"You're late, Winchester."   
  
The man stepped forward. He was younger than Tim, with shaggy, sandy brown hair and wearing a torn army jacket.   
  
"It's not easy getting around Washington D.C. when you're wanted by multiple Federal Agencies."   
  
"He came for me, Sam."   
  
Sam immediately schooled his features.   
  
"He wasn't supposed to. Not yet. I was there."   
  
"You're telling me. Crowley isn't the only thing that's going on right now." Tim slipped a folder out from inside his jacket and handed it to Sam. The younger man took the folder and flipped through the pictures.   
  
"Shit. Looks like Crowley is letting his pet hell hounds have a little fun."   
  
"Do you think this guy made some kind of deal? I mean, don't hell hounds come after you when the deal is up?"   
  
"That's usually how it works... but Crowley makes it up as he goes along... plus, he's been promoted since the last time you saw him."  
  
"He mentioned it... do you want to tell me what the hell has been going on since the last time I saw you?"   
  
"Later. Right now, we have to figure out what the hell Crowley is doing in D.C."   
  
"Sam, I'm not ready - I mean, he's--"   
  
"I won't let him cash in on your deal yet, Tim. You have my word."   
  
"Where do we start?"   
  
Sam looked around.   
  
"Exactly how far into this park are we?"   
  
"Far enough."   
  
"Okay. We have to summon Crowley."   
  
"You want to _what?"_  
  
"If you want all of this to stop, we have to go to the source."   
  
"But here? Now?"   
  
"We have to do it as soon as possible - and I don't want your Boss calling to interrupt."   
  
Tim took a deep breath, and let his eyes flutter closed for a moment.   
  
"Okay Sam, I'll follow your lead. How do we summon him?"   
  
Sam went back over to the clump of bushes he'd entered the clearing through, and pulled out a duffel bag he'd stashed. Tim watched as his friend expertly set up the makeshift altar they were going to need. When he was finished, Sam handed Tim an old book, flipped open to an earmarked page.   
  
"Read that one," Sam instructed, pointing to a small paragraph of Latin.   
  
Tim read the Latin slowly, and when he was finished, snapped the book shut nervously.   
  
"Brought reinforcements, Timmy?"   
  
Tim jumped and nearly dropped the book in his hands when Crowley appeared right in front of them.   
  
"We had a deal, Crowley," Sam said, stepping forward. "You weren't supposed to come for him yet."   
  
"I can do whatever the hell I want," Crowley said angrily. He waved a hand, and sent Tim flying backward across the clearing, slamming him into a tree and holding him there. "Did you really think summoning me here was a good idea, Sammy? Haven't you learned anything, Moose?"   
  
"I didn't summon you here to fight, Crowley. I want to know about the hell hounds."   
  
"What are you talking about?"   
  
"Why are you letting your hell hounds snack on Navy Officials?"   
  
Crowley chuckled.   
  
"As scintillating as that sounds, I can't take credit for it... you've summoned the wrong Demon, boys." He turned his attention to Tim. "I think you and I have a date, do we not?"   
  
"Please... we had a deal! I kept up my end!" Tim shouted. "I haven't been looking for it, I swear!"   
  
Crowley moved closer to Tim, until they were practically face to face.   
  
"The one thing I have in common with your Boss, Timmy, is that I can tell when you're lying."   
  
"I’m not lying!"   
  
"I know."   
  
Tim suddenly dropped to the ground in a heap.   
  
"This was just a friendly reminder... you try to look for it, and the next time you see me, you won't live to tell about it."   
  
With that, Crowley was gone.   
  
Sam rushed to Tim's side.   
  
"You all right?"   
  
Tim nodded as he tried to regain his breath.   
  
"Good, because we have a lot of work to do."   
  
**TBC...**


	3. Chapter 3

  
Tim trudged into his apartment that night around 3 a.m. He and Sam had spent a couple of hours returning the clearing to normal, and agreed to get some sleep and begin research the next day. Too tired to change, Tim fell into bed and passed out.   
  
~~~   
  
_"Get away from me!"_  
  
_The officer ran through the corridors of the ship, trying to escape what was chasing him._  
  
_The sound of vicious barking reverberated throughout the metal corridor as the officer ran for his life. He hooked a right and started running for the stairs that led to the upper deck._  
  
_The barking got louder and closer, and he could hear the giant getting closer to him. Suddenly, he felt white hot pain in his back, and he was pushed down to the ground._  
  
_The officer screamed as he was torn apart._   
  
~~~   
  
"No!" Tim shouted, shooting up straight in bed. He was sweating bullets, and his heart was beating wildly. Rather than try to get up, TIm lay back down for a moment, to wait for his heart rate to slow down.   
  
After a few moments, Tim pushed himself up and padded into the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and looked at himself in the mirror.   
  
_Why is this happening to me? What the hell is going on?_   
  
He considered going back to bed, but he knew he'd be unable to sleep. He went out into the living room and flipped through the channels on TV until he came across a Night Court marathon.   
  
**~*~*~*~*~**   
  
Tim awoke to a combination of the Golden Girls theme song on his TV and his ringing cell phone near his head. He sat up and turned off the TV, and answered the phone.   
  
_"McGee... you're late."_   
  
Tim looked at his watch. It was 0730.   
  
"I'm leaving now, Boss."   
  
_"Get your ass here."_   
  
Gibbs hung up, and Tim darted into his bedroom to change. He was ready and out the door in ten minutes.   
  
He drove fast to the office, and arrived two minutes shy of the 30 minutes Gibbs had allowed him.   
  
Gibbs looked up at him as he hurriedly crossed the bullpen.   
  
"Not bad, McGee. Don't be late again."   
  
"Yes, Boss."   
  
Before Tim could sit down, Gibbs' phone rang. He talked for 30 seconds and hung up.   
  
"Dead body on the U.S.S. Liberty. Grab your gear."   
  
Tim gulped as he followed Tony and Ellie to the elevator. He was really hoping it wasn't going to be what he was thinking.   
  
**~*~*~*~*~**   
  
"I found him at the bottom of the stairs leading to the upper deck," Commander Coleman explained to Gibbs as he lead them toward the body of Lieutenant John O'Neal. "It's terrible, Agent Gibbs... John was on the fast track to the top... he was one of the best under my command." They moved down the steps, and they all froze in place.   
  
Tim observed his nightmare in real time... this Lieutenant was the man he'd seen being murdered in his dream.   
  
_How in the hell could this be..._   
  
Tim suddenly started to feel nauseous, and rushed back upstairs to the deck and down toward the way, so he could be sick in private. He leaned over the railing and let himself be sick. When he was finally through, he leaned there for a moment, looking down at his reflection in the water.   
  
_There's no way this is a coincidence... no one dreams about murders before they happen... except for me._   
  
He scrubbed a hand across his face and blinked, and when he looked down again, another face had joined his in the reflection. Tim jumped and whirled around, to find a man standing behind him. He looked to be in his late fifties, wearing jeans and a black leather coat.   
  
Tim whipped out his gun and pointed it at the intruder.   
  
"You have ten seconds to identify yourself before I arrest you for trespassing," he said immediately.   
  
"Timothy, you do not remember who I am?"   
  
"I have no idea who you are," Tim said, his gun still trained on the man.   
  
"Please lower your weapon. I have only come to talk."   
  
Tim looked into the man's eyes. They looked honest... too honest.   
  
"Tell me who you are."   
  
"My name is James. I am your father."   
  
Tim fought to keep his hands from shaking.   
  
"How do I know you're telling me the truth?"   
  
"You carry the sign of the Nephilim. It has been branded to you since birth."   
  
"I know about that. You're really close to being shot right now," Tim reaffirmed, his trigger finger starting to itch.   
  
"I have the matching symbol."   
  
James pulled down the neck of his shirt, to reveal a symbol tattooed onto his skin, that matched the one on Tim's lower back to the detail.   
  
Tim holstered his gun.   
  
"You shouldn't be here," Tim said in a low voice. "What if someone sees us talking? How am I going to explain why you are on a guarded Navy vessel?"   
  
"Your premonitions have started, yes?"   
  
"Premonitions? You mean -- the dreams -- and the murders --"   
  
"It is one of the many gifts bestowed upon you at your birth."   
  
"Gifts? I've had to watch two people torn to shreds! How is that a gift?"   
  
"You must embrace this gift, or it will destroy you, my son."   
  
"McGee!"   
  
Tim looked beyond James and saw a shadow approaching from around the corner.   
  
"My Boss is coming. You have to leave."   
  
"If you need help, pray for me and I will come."   
  
Tim nodded, and James vanished. Seconds later, Gibbs rounded the corner.   
  
"What have you been doing up here, McGee?"   
  
"I'm sorry, Boss... I forgot my dramamine."   
  
"Are you all right now?"   
  
He nodded.   
  
"I'm feeling a lot better."   
  
"Good. Get down there and help Bishop with bag and tag."   
  
"Yes, Boss."   
  
Tim scurried away, leaving Gibbs alone with his thoughts. He knew he'd heard voices as he approached, but had only found his Agent when he rounded the corner.   
  
_Something hinky is going on here..._   
  
Shrugging, Gibbs made his way back downstairs to hurry his team along.   
  
**~*~*~*~*~*~**  
  
They got back from Norfolk later in the afternoon, and while Ellie delivered the evidence to Abby, Tony and Tim were subjected to Gibbs in the squad room. The Lead Agent doled out research tasks and went off on his usual coffee break.   
  
Tim started a computer search he already knew was futile, and sat back as the computer ran through the Lieutenant's phone records. He knew he had to stop these murders, but how? He knew very well that once a deal is made with a crossroads demon, it cannot be broken. On the other hand, he couldn't let innocent people just die, either.   
  
His phone vibrated, and he looked down at the text message. It was from Sam.   
  
_Found something. Call me ASAP._   
  
Tim immediately got up and pocketed his phone.   
  
"Where are you running to, Probie?" Tony asked, annoyed.   
  
"The head... need me to draw you a picture or something?"   
  
"No, I'm good, thanks."   
  
Tim went off to the Mens' room and quickly called Sam.   
  
"What did you find?"   
  
_"The Demon."_   
  
"What?"   
  
_"I summoned it. We're having a chat about cashing in early on deals."_   
  
Tim heard a splash, and then a sizzling sound before screams erupted on the other end of the phone.   
  
"Do you need help?" Tim asked.   
  
_"I can handle it."_   
  
"I need to talk to you about something else... call me after you send that thing back wherever it came from."   
  
_"Will do."_   
  
Tim hung up. As he turned to leave the Mens' room, a splitting headache ripped through his skull, bringing him to his knees. As he grabbed the sides of his head, and tried not to scream out in pain, another vision came to him.   
  
  
_"Thanks, sweetheart," Gibbs said with a smile, handing a tip to the young Barista that always made his coffee for him. She smiled sweetly and took it. As he turned around to start walking back to the building, a man walked up and pulled a gun out of his coat, and pointed it right at Gibbs. Before he could react, a shot rang out, and Gibbs dropped to the pavement, unmoving._   
  
  
"Tim! Tim can you hear me?"   
  
Tim opened his eyes and found Tony looking down at him, concerned. He sat up and realized that he was on the floor in the Mens' room.   
  
"What the hell happened?" Tony asked. "Balboa heard you screaming and came to get me."   
  
Tim suddenly grabbed Tony by the shirt.   
  
"Gibbs is in trouble. Call him right now."   
  
"Gibbs went to get coffee. He's fine."   
  
"Call him now, damn it! Tell him there's a shooter in the Yard!"   
  
Tony saw the seriousness in his partner's eyes, and took out his cell phone. He dialed his Boss immediately.   
  
_"What's the matter, DiNozzo?"_   
  
"McGee says there's a shooter in the Yard... he says you're going to get shot. Watch yourself."   
  
_"How the hell--"_   
  
"Humor me, Boss... he practically forced me to call you."   
  
Tony hung up the phone and held a hand out to Tim.   
  
"Ready to get off the floor?"   
  
Tim nodded, and took Tony's offered hand.   
  
"Thanks."   
  
They left the restroom and headed back to the squad room. As they rounded the corner, the bullpen was alive with activity. Agents were running around, and Vance was in the middle of the bullpen.   
  
"Director, what's going on?"   
  
"Gibbs just apprehended a shooter outside in the courtyard," he said grimly. "We're locking down until we can figure out how the hell he got onto the Yard."   
  
Tony nodded his understanding, and Vance turned to go and talk to Balboa. Tony turned and gave his partner a terrified look.   
  
"How in the hell did you know that this was going to happen?"   
  
"Can I explain later?"   
  
"You can explain now."   
  
Tim grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back into the hallway.   
  
"Before I tell you this, you have to promise me that you will keep this a secret."   
  
Tony wanted to make a remark, but the seriousness in his friend's eyes stopped him.   
  
"I promise."   
  
"Earlier in the Mens' room... I had a premonition - I saw Gibbs getting shot by the Coffee Kiosk in the courtyard."   
  
Tony stared open-mouthed at his friend. He wanted to believe Tim was lying, but it explained why Balboa heard Tim scream, and why Tony found him on the bathroom floor.   
  
"How--"   
  
"That's a long story that I don't want to tell more than once. Let's go find Gibbs and make sure everything's OK."   
  
Tony glared at him - something Tim hadn't been the recipient of in a very long time - and stalked off. Tim sighed and followed him around the corner to the squad room. The elevator doors opened at that moment, and Gibbs stepped out.   
  
"Are you all right, Boss?" Tim immediately asked.   
  
"Conference Room A... _now_."   
  
Tim nodded and turned toward the corridor. Gibbs and Tony followed. When they were all in the conference room, Gibbs closed and locked the door. He immediately turned on Tim.   
  
"I want to know how the hell you knew I was going to get shot, and I want to know right now."   
  
"I... I sort of saw it."   
  
"You weren't there, McGee. Stop lying to me."   
  
"I saw it _before_ it happened, Boss."   
  
"Excuse me?"   
  
Tony stepped up.   
  
"He isn't lying, Boss. Balboa heard him screaming bloody murder in the mens' room, and I found him on the floor when I went to check it out."   
  
Gibbs turned back to his youngest Agent.   
  
"You had a premonition?"   
  
Tim nodded.   
  
"I can't believe this," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.   
  
"I didn't ask for this to happen," Tim said.   
  
"Have you had these premonitions before?" Gibbs asked suddenly.   
  
Tim looked from Tony to Gibbs... and nodded.   
  
"When?"   
  
"The first one came two nights ago, and the second last night. I saw the murders."   
  
"The murders we're investigating?" Gibbs asked.   
  
"Yeah. Believe me, you don't want to know what I saw."   
  
"Did you see the murderer?" Gibbs asked.   
  
"No... but I know what did it, and it's been dealt with."   
  
"What the hell is that supposed to mean, McGee?" Tony said angrily. "What did you do?"   
  
"I didn't do anything... just trust me when I say this case is closed."   
  
Gibbs pointed to chair.   
  
"Sit your ass down and don't move until I come back."   
  
Tim took a seat.   
  
"DiNozzo, with me."   
  
Tony followed Gibbs into the hallway.   
  
"Take care of the paperwork to close the murder investigation. Make sure the report you give Vance is believable."   
  
"On it." Tony glanced at the door to the conference room. "He really isn't lying, Gibbs. He had a premonition. I'm not sure how, but he did."   
  
"I believe him. Just go take care of the case, and do _not_ tell Vance about this."   
  
"You can count on me."   
  
Tony hurried down the hall to the squad room. Gibbs took a deep breath, and opened the conference room door. Tim was sitting dejectedly where Gibbs had left him. He looked up when Gibbs came back into the conference room and closed the door. Gibbs pulled out a chair next to Tim and sat down.   
  
"Let's talk."   
  
"If you're going to fire me, just tell me now so I can clean out my desk."   
  
_Thwack!_   
  
"If you were fired, your ass would have been out the door already."   
  
Tim nodded, eyes still fixed on his hands.   
  
"I want to talk about your premonitions."   
  
He looked up at Gibbs.   
  
"It's a really long, really personal story... I'm not sure you'd believe me."   
  
"Try me."   
  
Tim picked up his cell phone and googled a picture of the symbol on his lower back. He set it down on the table in front of Gibbs.   
  
"This is the symbol of a Nephilim, or a child conceived by a fallen angel and a human."   
  
Gibbs looked at the symbol, and then back at Tim.   
  
"What are you trying to tell me?"   
  
Tim stood up and turned around. He lifted his shirt to expose his mark to Gibbs. He waited a moment, put his shirt back down, and turned back to his Boss. Gibbs was sitting dumbstruck.   
  
"This has to be some kind of -- are you and DiNozzo playing some kind of sick joke on me?"   
  
"This is real... I'm a Nephilim."   
  
Gibbs stood up and started pacing, as Tim had seen him do when he was nervous.   
  
"I'm still me, Gibbs," Tim reassured him.   
  
Gibbs stopped pacing and turned to him.   
  
"Are there other things you can do?"   
  
"You might want to sit down. It's a long story."   
  
Gibbs took his seat next to Tim and listened to his story.   
  
**~*~*~*~*~*~**  
  
_\- October 2009 -_  
  
_Tim stepped out of his apartment building in his running clothes. He always took an early morning run before heading to the office. He headed down to the park near his house and took to the wooded trail. He loved the freedom of running. He didn't have to think about anything when he ran... he could clear his mind._  
  
_He took a break near a clearing to catch his breath. As he put his hands on his knees to let his breathing even out, he felt someone come up behind him. Assuming it was another runner, he turned to wave. Instead he met a man wearing a black suit, with an evil grin on his face. Before he could ask the man who he was, he found himself flying backward and slammed into a tree. His body was being suspended two feet from the ground._  
  
_"Where have you been hiding?" The man said, that evil smile still plastered on his face._  
  
_"Who are you?" Tim asked, trying to escape the force that bound him._  
  
_"Don't speak unless you're spoken to, Nephilim!"_  
  
_Tim looked at the man - or whatever the hell he was - blankly. What in the hell had he called him?_  
  
_"You have no idea what you are, do you?"_  
  
_Tim shook his head._  
  
_"You have angel blood in your veins... and I want it."_  
  
_"I have_ what _in me?"_  
  
_The man chuckled._  
  
_"You're half-human, half-angel, kiddo." The man came closer to him. "I've always hated Nephilim... they're so... diluted. I want your angel mojo... and when I get it, I'm going to kill you."_  
  
_Tim struggled viciously, but it was in vain. Whatever power this thing had over him was unbreakable._  
  
_"Let him go, Crowley!"_  
  
_Tim whipped his head around to find a man coming down the trail, holding a sawed-off shotgun. He had it pointed at the man in black._  
  
_"Sam Winchester... so nice of you to join our little party."_  
  
_"Let him go."_  
  
_"And why would I want to do that?"_  
  
_"I'll make a deal with you!" Tim shouted._  
  
_"You don't want to do that," the man with the gun warned._  
  
_"I'll give you my Angel mojo or whatever, but you have to let me live."_  
  
_"Killing you is the fun part. I can't deny myself a little pleasure killing."_  
  
_"Just take it and go... I won't come looking for it or you. Just, don't kill me."_  
  
_Sam stood with his gun pointed at Crowley, ready to shoot. Crowley moved closer to Tim, and smiled._  
  
_"I suppose I'm in a charitable mood today. All right, kid. I'll let you live. If you try to find your Grace, the deal is off, and you're dead."_  
  
_"I understand."_  
  
_Crowley stepped forward and planted a kiss on Tim._  
  
_"What the hell was that?" Tim asked in disgust._  
  
_"That's how we seal the deal."_  
  
_Crowley held out his hand at level with Tim's chest. A blue light started to radiate from Tim._  
  
_"Shut your eyes!" Sam shouted, diving to the ground for cover._  
  
_Tim screwed his eyes shut as the blue light got brighter, and a paralyzing sound filled his ears, as if his ears were ringing at a ridiculous volume. The sensation that a part of him was being detached from his body followed the vicious sound._  
  
_The whole thing was over in a matter of seconds. Tim fell limp to the ground, and Crowley tucked a vial into the pocket of his coat._  
  
_"Don't forget our deal, Timmy. I'm watching you."_  
  
_With that, Crowley disappeared._   
  
  
**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**  
  
"So you're telling me that a demon took your angel half, or whatever you call it, and he's going to kill you if you go looking for it?"   
  
Tim nodded.   
  
"This is ridiculous."   
  
"It doesn't make it any less true, Boss."   
  
They sat in silence for a long time, neither of them knowing what to say next. Tim wasn't sure what Gibbs was going to say next.   
  
"Okay... I believe you... but I still don't understand all of this."   
  
"I didn't either... it took me a long time to accept what had happened to me, and what I'd learned about who I am."   
  
Suddenly, Tim felt a tightening in his chest, as if the breath were being sucked out of his body.   
  
"McGee!" Gibbs jumped up and went to Tim's side. He quickly realized there was nothing he could do to stop what was currently happening. After what Tim had just revealed, he wasn't sure whether to call 911 or pray for an Angel. As suddenly as the episode started, it stopped, and Tim collapsed onto the floor, sucking in much needed air. Gibbs dropped to his knees.   
  
"What happened? Are you all right?" he asked. Tim nodded, still gasping for breath. "Just breathe, Tim. In and out... good."   
  
"Boss..." Tim gasped. "Get out of here..."   
  
"I'm not leaving you alone."   
  
"Please... he's...coming... you have to leave now."   
  
"Who's coming, Tim?"   
  
**TBC...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Note:** There is a scene in this chapter in which Crowley kisses Gibbs. This is not slash; it plays on the idea in the SPN universe that a Crossroads Demon will kiss their victim to seal the deal.

"You should have left while you had the chance, Agent Gibbs." 

Gibbs jumped up and whirled around to find a stout man standing behind him, wearing a black suit. He immediately went for his gun, but he was disarmed by wave of the intruder's hand. His gun flew out of its holster and across the room, hitting the wall and breaking into pieces.

"You..." Gibbs was trying to hide his fear. The demon could sense it. He grinned evilly. 

"I can feel your fear, Gibbs. You can't hide it from me. You never could."

"Leave him alone!" Tim half-shouted as he managed to stumble to his feet. "He's got nothing to do with this." 

"Oh, I know that..." Crowley held out a hand, and Gibbs felt himself being propelled backward. He slammed into the wall with a grunt, and was held there by an invisible force. "Gibbs and I have had a play date for quite some time now... haven't we?" 

Tim tried to move, but found himself frozen in place. 

"Crowley, what the hell do you want! Why can't you just leave me the hell alone!" 

"You still have power, Timmy... you were supposed to give it all up to me. We had an arrangement." 

"I had no idea, I swear... It just started. If I had known--"

"Enough!" 

Tim flinched at the sound of Crowley's voice, and fell silent.

"I'm going to have to make another withdrawal, Timmy... this is going to hurt." 

The invisible force holding Tim's feet to the floor suddenly forced him to his knees. 

"You don't deserve the power you have, Nephilim," Crowley said, moving closer to Tim, who was trembling on his knees. "You're an abomination." 

Crowley held his palm out in front of him, flat, facing Tim. 

Tim closed his eyes and did the only thing he could think of... he prayed.

"Leave my son alone, Crowley." 

Everyone turned their heads. A man had appeared in the middle of the room.

"James... how good of you to join us," Crowley said. 

"Timothy is of no use to you. Leave him be."

"Your abomination and I had a deal... I get his Grace, and he gets to live. I've come to collect the pieces I've obviously missed."

James looked at Tim for confirmation. Tim nodded slowly. 

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

James nodded and turned his attention to Crowley. 

"What have you to gain from a few silly dreams? You have already stolen half of who my son is." 

"A deal with me is a binding contract... I get  everything.  No exceptions, and no bargaining."

Crowley looked over at Gibbs, who had been silently watching the exchange. Then he looked back at Tim, who was quivering on his knees. He walked toward Gibbs.

"You remember our bargain, Gibbs?" 

Gibbs nodded. 

Crowley sighed, clearly annoyed at what he was about to do.

"Timmy can keep his premonitions, on  one  condition." He looked at Gibbs. "You cannot let _anyone_ interfere with his premonitions. If a premonition doesn't play out, I'm going to suck every last morsel of energy from his body, and your miserable soul is mine. Are we understood?"

"Boss, don't do it." 

"Shut up," Crowley said. He waved a hand at Tim, and all of a sudden, Tim found himself unable to speak. Crowley turned back to Gibbs, who was still pinned against the wall.

"Do we have an understanding?" 

Gibbs glared at the Demon in front of him, inches from his face. He wanted to tell him no,  _ really  _ wanted to, but he knew he couldn't. 

"Yes." 

"Goody. You two behave, or the next time you see me, we're going to be having more than just a little chat." 

With that, Crowley was gone. Tim and Gibbs were immediately released from their invisible bonds. Tim slumped forward onto his hands and knees, trying to regain his breath. James went to his side.

"Are you  all right ?" 

Tim nodded as he pushed himself back to his knees. Gibbs joined them a moment later.

"Why did you do that, Boss?" Tim asked. 

"I'm sorry, Tim. I had no choice." 

"You should have just let him take it." 

"Timothy," James interjected. "If he had attempted to take your premonitions from you, it would have killed you. Stealing your Grace tore a part of you apart... if he had tried again, he would have destroyed you." 

"Then let him destroy me!" 

Tim tried to push himself up to his feet, but found that he was too weak to stand, and fell back down to his knees.

"Crowley has taken much energy from him," James said. "He needs to rest." 

"We can take him to my house," Gibbs said. "It's safe there." 

In the blink of an eye, James was gone, and had taken  Tim  with him.

** ~*~*~*~*~*~ **

Gibbs went out to the squad room to join Tony.  It seemed as if out here, it was business as usual. No one seemed to have an inkling of what had just happened 200 feet away in the conference room. 

"You wrap up the case?" he asked Tony as he approached his desk.   


"Already done, Boss. I e-mailed it to Vance 20 minutes ago. Where's McGee?" 

"Sent him home," Gibbs said quickly. "He wasn't feeling well."

"Maybe some rest will do the Probie some good."

Gibbs went over to his desk and started to gather his things.

"You leaving too, Boss?" 

"So are you, DiNozzo. Take the rest of the afternoon off." 

Tony hit 'save' on the report he was working on, and powered off his computer.

"Works for me." 

"Get your ass here tomorrow at 0700." 

"Absolutely, Boss." 

Gibbs pulled on his coat, grabbed his bag and hurried to the elevator. He had to get home, and fast. 

** ~*~*~*~*~ **

Tim woke up on Gibbs' couch. He sat up slowly, confused at first about how he'd gotten there. A few seconds later, the memories started to return. He remembered Crowley, and Gibbs, and James appearing... and then blackness.

"You are awake." 

Tim nearly jumped a mile at the sound of James' voice. The angel was sitting in Gibbs' armchair.

"You really need to warn me next time you decide to just appear out of thin air," Tim said. 

"I'm sorry about that. How are you feeling?" 

"I’m feeling a bit better. I don't understand... I've been held down by Crowley before. Why did it take so much out of me this time?" 

"You felt him coming, didn't you?" James asked.

"I remember talking to  Gibbs in the conference room, and then feeling this overwhelming darkness... an evil. It was excruciating. I thought my head was going to explode." 

"Your abilities are evolving, my Son. The gift of premonition seems to have evolved, and given you the ability to sense demons before their arrival." 

"So what happened to me when Crowley showed up will happen every time I sense a demon?" 

"You are still overwhelmed by your new abilities. You must learn to control them."

"How do I do that when I don't even know when the visions are coming?" 

At that moment, the door opened, and Gibbs came in. He shut the door behind him and locked it.  He  immediately turned to his Agent.

"Are you all right, McGee?" 

"I'm fine, Boss. Are  you  all right ?" 

"No, I'm not. We need to talk." He looked at James. "Privately." 

"I shall return later to check on you, Timothy. You know what to do, should you need me again." 

Tim nodded, and James disappeared.

Gibbs sat down next to  Tim  on the couch.

"What the hell happened in that conference room?" Tim asked angrily. 

Gibbs took out his cell phone, turned it off, and set it on the table.

"What I'm about to tell you is something I've never told another soul. It doesn't leave this room. Am I clear?" 

"I promise I won't tell anyone." 

Gibbs nodded. 

"After Shannon and Kelly died, I didn't know which way was up anymore. Eventually, it lead me to my father's old cabin, with a gun and a bottle of Jack Daniels." he looked at  Tim  with a seriousness that the young Agent had never seen before. "I wasn't planning on coming back from that trip... until something happened to me that I've never discussed with anyone."

** ~~~~ **

_ July, 1991 _

__

_   
The bottle of Jack Daniels lay empty on the dock next to him  as he stared down at the gun in his hands. He had been sitting there for hours, drumming up the courage to do what he'd driven up here to do. There was nothing left for him in this life - he might as well put himself out of his misery. _

__

_ He expertly checked the clip and cocked the gun. There was no point in waiting any longer. He raised the gun to his temple, and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. The gun clicked, as if were empty, or jammed. _

__

_ "Having trouble?"  _

__

_ Gibbs leapt to his feet and turned around, to find a man standing with him on the  dock, wearing  a black suit. _

__

_ "Who the hell are you, and why are you on my property?" Gibbs demanded. _

__

_ "I'm  someone who can help you." _

__

_ "What makes you think I need help?"  _

__

_ "For starters, you were about to blow your brains out, until I helpfully jammed your gun."  _

__

_ "What the hell are you talking about? Get the hell off my property!" _

__

_ The stranger waved his hand, and Gibbs suddenly felt his gun slip out of his hands, and fly into the lake. He looked at the stranger. _

__

_ "Who are you?"  _

__

_ "My name is Crowley... and I can help you get the revenge you seek."  _

__

_ "What do you--" _

__

_ "I know everything, Jethro... I know about your wife, and your little girl... and I know who killed them. I can tell you where he is, and I can help you kill him."  _

__

_ Gibbs lunged angrily at Crowley, intending to thrash him for bringing Shannon and Kelly into the conversation. He took a swing, and found himself stumbling forward as he swung at thin air.  _

__

_ "Now, now, Jethro... I can't help you if you don't watch your temper."  _

__

_ "You are NOT allowed to say ANYTHING about my family, do you understand me!"  _

__

_ All of a sudden, Gibbs felt his body being pulled down, toward the dock. Seconds later, he hit his knees, and was terrified to find that he did not have control over his body anymore. _

__

_ "I came here to help you find the bastard who killed your family. If you don't want my help, I'd be happy to finish what you started just a moment ago.  It's  your choice, Jethro... death, or revenge?"  _

__

_ Gibbs stopped struggling against the force holding him down, and gave Crowley's ultimatum some thought. If he ended it all right now, the bastard that took his Girls from him would still be running around free, to hurt other people. If he chose revenge... he could stop him. For good. _

__

_ He looked up at Crowley, all of the emotion drained from his tired eyes. _

__

_ "I want revenge."  _

__

_ Crowley let him go, and Gibbs nearly fell flat on his face. He scrambled to his feet, afraid to be at a disadvantage to this -- whatever he was. _

__

_ "Here's the deal, Jethro... I'll put you in a position to find and eliminate the man that killed your family -  but I want something in return." _

__

_ "What?"  _

__

_ "In time, Jethro. There will be something I ask of you in the future, and whatever I ask, you  _ must  _ do it. If you don't, I will lay claim to your soul."  _

__

_ "My soul?" _

__

_ Crowley's eyes flashed a deep black, just for a moment. Gibbs knew right then that whatever Crowley was, that he was evil. Somehow, Gibbs didn't care at the moment. All that was on his mind was revenge. _

__

_ "Do we have a deal?"  _

__

_ Gibbs held out his hand before he could change his mind. _

__

_ "Yes."  _

__

_ Crowley moved past the outstretched hand, grabbed Gibbs' face, and kissed him, to seal the fate of the broken Marine.  _

__

** ~~~~ **

"After he sealed the deal, he disappeared, and I never saw him again. Two days later, Franks handed me a file on Pedro Hernandez, and said he wouldn't stand in my way." 

"So the thing he  wants in return..."

"If I let anything interfere with what you see in your premonitions, he's gonna come for me, and probably you, too." 

"What if whatever I see involves someone we care about? We're supposed to let them get hurt? Or worse?" 

"I don't like this anymore than you  do, Tim , but we have to, or we're both going to die... and probably end up in hell for our trouble." 

Tim thought for a moment, and came up with an idea.

"I have a friend who might be able to help us."

"The one who helped you when Crowley took your - whatever it was?" 

"Yeah. I can call him." Tim took out his phone, but  hesitated. "Crowley is going to know if I call him. He always seems to know."

"Use the basement. It's warded." 

Tim grinned.

"That explains why you always hang out down there." 

Gibbs cuffed him lightly on the back of the head.

"Go make your call." 

** TBC... **


End file.
